A True Boyfriend
by Bunnylass
Summary: When she walks away from you mad; follow her. When she stares at your mouth; kiss her. When she pushes you or hits you; grab her and don't let go...Vignettes between Jesse and Suze, based off a profile list. Showing how true a boyfriend Jesse is to Suze.
1. A True Boyfriend

_**Disclaimer – **_The Mediator belongs to Meg Cabot. I have no idea who owns the 'A True Boyfriend' poem/ list thingy. Whoever it is, they're a genius. I'm just borrowing it with no ownership.

_**Rating – **_T

_**Summary – **__When she walks away from you mad; __Follow her. __When she stares at your mouth; __Kiss her. When she pushes you or hits you; __Grab her and don't let go_ . . . Vignettes between Jesse and Suze, based off a profile list. Showing how true a boyfriend Jesse is to Suze . . . All set after 'Twilight'.

_**A/N –**_ I came across '_A True Boyfriend_' poem/list and as I was reading through it, I could just envision the scenes happening between Suze and Jesse. So I got writing, putting whatever came into my mind with that particular phrase and before I knew it, I'd got this much done. There's more to go, but I don't have time to do them now so I'll finish it tomorrow. Be warned, I've never written third person before. So I really hope I haven't fudged it up too spectacuarly. But I hope you enjoy it. :) Reviews are love!

* * *

_**A True Boyfriend**_

_**When she walks away from you mad . . .**_

Throwing Jesse one last scowl, her ire with him snapped to the limit, Suze turned her back on Jesse and walked away, determined not to talk to him. Determined not to even let him know just how much she wanted to smash something or yell at him. All the while, silently begging for him to come after her. To erase the anger and throw it to the wind as fleeting as the sands through time. But after taking ten steps forward in the direction of home, Suze sighs, her head dropping; he's not going to follow.

So lost in her disappointment that they can't even sort through one small misunderstanding, she doesn't notice he's five steps behind her, his feet silently treading the leafy path after her. His warm brown eyes watching her every movement, tracing the slim frame of waist, the slight hitch in her shoulders, the way her hair drapes past her ears to cover half her down-turned face. Jesse doesn't say a word. He just follows her silently, until she reaches her house.

Only when she starts to climb the porch stairs does Suze turn to glance behind her, suddenly aware of eyes fixated on her back. With a hitch of her breath, she sees Jesse standing at the bottom of the driveway, watching her with the same intensity as before.

Suze knows then . . . he _did_ follow and come after her. With it, their misunderstanding was forgotten.

**_Follow her._**

xXx

_**When she stares at your mouth . . .**_

The club Suze persuaded Jesse to go to with her is loud, booming, the sound of the base from the speakers vibrating through both their bodies. People barge past them, knocking her into the arms of her love. With an easy smile, Jesse steadied her, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist to keep her close. Getting back to bobbing her head to the song, Suze lets the feeling of standing in Jesse's arms seep into her soul, making her nerve endings stand to attention. It's a new experience, being able to go to a club. So the alcohol wasn't flowing, but that was okay. Just getting to spend some time with Jesse is enough.

Just like knowing that Susannah is more than happy that he agreed to go to the club with her. It's not his thing; too loud; too many people and too much of an atmosphere; but she wanted him there. What could he do but to accept? He knew they wouldn't stay the whole night. Sooner or later Susannah would get sensory overload and want to dash out the doors as quickly as possible. He was prepared for that. Anticipating it, even.

Gaining Susannah's attention with a quick squeeze of her waist, Jesse waits until she's looking at him before he starts to speak. "How are you doing?" He asked, calling over the loud music. But that's not enough. Indicating she can't hear him, Suze's eyes drop to his lips, transfixed by the movement as he repeats his question. When he notices she's not heard, or read, a word he said, his lips quirk into a grin, her eyes following the movement.

Slowly, Jesse drops his head to press his lips to Susannah's. The touch is warm, familiar and comforting. If she's going to watch his lips, he's going to kiss hers. It's a second best to looking into her eyes and a place he'll go again if he catches her staring at that particular part of his face again.

**_Kiss her._**

xXx

**_When she pushes or hits you . . ._**

The raw intensity of the grief pumping through Suze's veins, making the tears spill down her cheeks more and more, is the same grief that whips the breath from her lungs, weakening her even more. She's mad . . . So incredibly _furious_, she doesn't know _what_ to think! What to _feel_! All she wants to do is lash out at someone! To make them hurt as much as she's hurting inside. How can she feel so much _pain_ without it crippling her?! She can't understand it. But she wants to vent it another way. She has to!

Spinning around from the touch to her shoulder, stopping her from punching the pillow she's been battling; Suze doesn't even stop to think about what she's doing, _who_ she's hitting. She just lashes out, again and again. Kicking, punching, and shoving at Jesse to back off. Venting her grief and anger out on the one person that just happens to be there, feeling the same pain she is, because he can't take it away. So instead, he lets her beat at his chest, her fist lashing out wildly until he's had enough.

In a move so quick, Jesse grabs Susannah's wrists and stops her from lashing out. Instead, he holds her away from him, even while she fights to try and hit him some more.

Slowly and painfully, she looks up at him, the fight gone from her body, the tears hanging on the lashes of her eyes, waiting to fall like splintered crystals down her cheeks. Jesse feels the pain even worse than before. But takes comfort that some part of that pain has been released. That it's gone from her body and released in to his. His hands slacken on her wrists, but he still holds on to her. He says nothing, and neither does Suze.

They just stand in the shadows of their grief, the fight gone from them both.

_**Grab her and don't let go.**_

xXx

_**When she starts cussing at you . . .**_

Leaning casually against the bedpost of her bed, Jesse watches Susannah pace back and forth in front of him like a caged animal. Her frustration and annoyance seep off of her in waves so palpable, he can taste it on his lips when he licks them, hoping to get rid of the dry feeling. It had been close this time; a ghost had gotten a little too personal. And it could have been dangerous if Jesse hadn't have stepped in when he did. It was worth watching her pace her carpet backwards and forwards, wearing a groove with her thick boots.

"I don't give a damn what you thought, Jesse!" Susannah rants, her breath coming in quick, rapid gasps. "I could've handled it! I _was_, handling it! Its bullshit that you think you can just take over! After all this time, you still think I'm going to fall through the cracks and let some dumb-ass ghost get the better of me!"

Falling silent, Suze ran a hand through her hair agitatedly; because she would never admit to Jesse that she was worried about that _exact_ same thing. That somehow, she'd grow complacent and a ghost really _would_ hurt her worse than any time before now. It was the exact reason for her annoyance. It wasn't aimed at Jesse. It wasn't even aimed at the ghost! Not completely anyway. She just hated the thought of Jesse seeing her nearly taken down by a pesky spirit and having him come to her rescue . . . _again_!

Not that she wasn't grateful; because she was. But still!

"Next time you decide to try and take over – "

Stepping forward in the middle of her new rant, Jesse cupped Suze's face in his strong tanned hands and kissed her deeply. "I love you, _querida._" He murmured when he pulled away, his voice sure, strong and held with as much conviction as his eyes held. Unblinking, unwaveringly watching her.

Visibly deflating at his choice of words, Suze lowered her arms to her sides. The small crease forming between her eyebrows starting to waver. Whether it's from the way he said it so determinedly, like nothing else mattered; or because it was the perfect thing to say to make her forget about everything that had happened in the past three hours, she doesn't know. Either way, suddenly she was tired of cussing and reaming him out. Suddenly, all Suze could do was smile.

What else mattered, after-all?

**_Kiss her and tell her you love her._**

xXx

_**When she's quiet . . .**_

The night was as silent as the beautiful girl sitting beside Jesse, her eyes thrown out to the water in the distance, reflecting in her eyes. She's been quiet the whole night. Not a sigh or a moan from the cold. Just a fixed stare, blinking every now and again. But never, a word said. For Jesse, considering its Susannah, it's a disconcerting feeling. It's unusual and too quiet. She usually has something to say, whether it's from something someone said, or a question he couldn't possibly answer. But usually, words have been said.

But tonight, her silence is worrying.

When Suze feels Jesse's arm wrap around her shoulders and draw her up to his side, she doesn't resist him. But nor does she look up at him with a smile, or a certain look in her eye either. Feeling his arm tighten fractionally from her lack of reaction, she absently lays a hand on his thigh, her eyes still fixed to the horizon in the distance. She knows he worried, she can feel it in the coiling of his tense body beside her. He radiates it like he radiates warmth. So much heat, she doesn't feel the cold.

But Jesse's words break through the silence. "Susannah . . . What's wrong?" He questions quietly as if scared she'll break into a thousand pieces from the sound of his voice.

Finally, the words she knew he would ask shatter through her haze and her head turns to stare up at him. Suze's smile isn't forced and pasted on to her face to withhold his concern. It's genuine, pleasant and _mysterious_. "Nothing." Suze said firmly, her hand flexing and applying the slightest pressure on his thigh. She's just entranced by the solitude, the dreamy mist of peace hanging around her. She doesn't want to lose it. Not when Jesse's sitting beside her, just as free as she is.

Susannah's answer, at least, reassures him. Returning her smile after he's searched her eyes, he turns back to stare out at the night with her. Both at peace for a short time.

**_Ask her what's wrong._**

xXx

**_When she ignores you . . ._**

Feeling Susannah shifting restlessly behind him, Jesse puts her constant fidgeting down to boredom. Looking down at the paper in front of him, his eyes read over the print, taking in the news and the latest crises arising around the world and in his own backyard. It always leaves him with a sour taste to his mouth knowing that the world has descended down further into hell since he was alive the first time. It's disappointing, scary and a thing that shouldn't keep him awake at night, but does anyway. He's not Superman, he can't save everyone.

But he can protect his own world he lives in with Susannah.

"Can you believe this? Another murder in only two weeks . . . I hope they find the perpetrator soon. Those poor families . . . " He trailed off, realizing with a shock that Susannah is no longer shifting restlessly behind him. Turning, he sees her standing in front of the window, her back rigid straight. "Susannah?" He questions, with no response.

Suze knows its childish ignoring him, but sometimes she gets so fed-up of him wondering over the woes of the world. She realized a long time ago, there's no point dwelling on what you can do nothing about. Another person has lost their life, and she's sorry for that. Truly she is. But she can't do anything about it. Why can't he concentrate on what's _in front_ of him first. Appreciate and enjoy what he _has_. It's not selfish; it's life. So she ignores him. Waiting for him to open his eyes again.

She's not expecting it when he steps up to her side and slowly turns her around so she's looking at him, though. But what he says next, makes her wonder if she got it all wrong in the beginning. Maybe it's _she_ with the skewed vision of the world and not Jesse. His statement would seem so.

"You have my undivided attention, _querida_," Jesse said, his hands rubbing over her shoulders gently. "You always have."

Suze need never doubt that about Jesse.

**_Give her your attention._**

xXx

_**When she pulls away . . .**_

Sometimes, having to let Susannah go feels like losing a limb to Jesse. It can be something as simple as watching her walk away from him until the next moment they would see each other again. It could be watching her disappear to the bathroom for a few minutes, knowing she'll be back in a matter of seconds. Having her hand slip from his, dropping away and severing the connection. But it doesn't matter what it is, it always feels as though he's losing a piece of himself as she goes.

It makes his skin crawl with icy awareness.

Suze has no idea she affects him in such a way. What could she do if she did? How could she reassure him she's not going to drop away into oblivion, never to be seen again? There is no way to reassure someone, who feels the same way when she has to walk away, of that. For Suze it stems from watching Jesse's spirit being sucked back into soulless body, not knowing if that was it; if he was gone or not. But she'll never know Jesse's fear comes from the one time he was exorcised, ripped from Susannah in a cruellest way, because he thought _she_ was the one who did it.

But it doesn't matter what the reasons are - they both feel the same.

So when they kiss their last kiss of the night, trying to memorise the taste of their skin; the texture of their tongues; the softness of their lips and the pressure of their mouths to their memory, it's with a heavy heart and a reluctant body. Suze pulls away first, because she's the one that has to walk away from him. But this time . . . Jesse pulls her _back_. She whips back around with a gasp, her body fitting to his like it was carved from the same mould, his arm trapping her against him.

Maybe this time . . . neither has to pull away.

**_Pull her back._**

xXx

_**When you see her at her worst . . .**_

Suze stares into the mirror, sighing at the dark circles carved into her cheeks under her dull, spark-less eyes. Raising a shaking pale hand, she tries to fluff her hair and make it look less limp and lifeless as it does. The gesture fails epically. Slumping her shoulder beneath her old t-shirt that's so faded from age and washes, the colour isn't distinguishable anymore. She can't even make out the slogan on the front. Or remember what it said, for that matter.

Moving out of the bathroom and back to the space Jesse's occupying, her feet drag across the floor. She's not sick; its worse . . . She's _exhausted_. School work, coupled with extracurricular activities that won't show up on her College application because being a mediator isn't exactly a proven fact; doubled with _real_ extra curricular activities to keep her Mom happy, it's all piled on top of Suze. And she's looking like crap to prove it.

Looking up from the show he's not really watching on the television, Jesse smiles warmly as Susannah approaches sluggishly.

When she drops down onto the couch beside him, sighing with the effort, he gently cups her chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking down into her deep green, _tired_ eyes without flinching. His free hand traces over the dark circles shadowing her face, runs over the limp strands of her hair, sifting them through his fingers like it's as soft as Angel's wings. He fingers the cotton of her shirt worn with love and comfort and finally raises his eyes to her again. A spark shooting from Jesse's eyes to Susannah's.

"You look beautiful to me, _querida_." Jesse says with the love and kindness he touched her with.

With those simple words, suddenly Suze is looking more radiant and glowing, than any facial session has ever done.

**_Tell her she's beautiful._**

xXx

_**When you see her start crying . . .**_

When Susannah said she wanted to visit his grave-stone, Jesse expected what was going to come. He wanted to tell her not to go. He wanted to shield her from the emotions that would inevitably come during her visit. He wanted to persuade her to put it off, just a little while longer. But he knew without doing any of those things, that Susannah wouldn't listen anyway. She's always tried to be stronger, braver when it comes to this kind of pain. He wants to tell her it's not a weakness to feel it.

So Jesse does the only thing he can do . . . He goes with her and gives her the support she needs to face it.

For almost fifteen minutes, nothing happens as they stand over his grave, reading the words etching into the marker with love, precision and finality. At one point, Susannah dropped to her knees and traced the lettering of each word, slowly, murmuring the inscription under her breath soundlessly. He only moves to help her when she pulls herself up to stand. His hand on the small of her back, watching and waiting for the rising tide, sure to come. His attention no longer on the grave he's visiting with the same grief she holds; but on Susannah at his side.

Waiting.

He doesn't wish for it to come, and when it does, he feels a cold crippling hand squeeze around his heart and try to rip it out of his chest. The tears are slow and silent as they drip down Susannah's face one after the other. But within seconds of them coming, Jesse's arms are wrapped around her. His face buried in her neck, crushing her to him, rocking them both back and forth on the spot. His hand moves up and down her back rhythmically, but that's all he does.

Jesse doesn't say a word to comfort her, because there's nothing he can say to make it better. So he holds her, riding out the pain and waiting for it to pass.

It's all Susannah needs.

**_Just hold her and don't say a word._**

xXx

**_When you see her walking . . ._**

The day had been as long and as tiring as the days before it for Suze, as she walked out of school, already decided she was going to walk home instead of taking the offered lift from her friends or arranged ride with Dopey. As tired as she is, she's energized enough the walk. She's wearing comfortable shoes, her bag is light for a change, there's no reason not to. She knows one thing that could make it better, but she doesn't dwell on that for long. Already hitching her bag higher on her shoulder a small smile dancing along the edges of her lips.

Jesse watches her from the shadows of the gates of her school, curious of why she was deciding to walk. He'd been waiting there before it was time for her last class to end, so he could catch her before she got into the Land Rover she shares with Bradley, or into the bright red VW Beetle belonging to Adam. But he needn't have worried, because she'd strolled right past both cars and made straight for the gates. So curiously, he watched her for a few seconds, before setting his feet into motion.

He had to side-step a few other school students of different ages before he gets even remotely close to her. But when he does, his arms wrap around her waist from behind, stopping her stride dead with a gasp before Suze realizes the familiarity of the arms wrapped around her.

Smiling, her final unspoken wish granted, Suze leaned back against Jesse, knowing he'd take her full weight without a problem. Nuzzling her neck and making her giggle with pleasure.

It's the most musical sound to Jesse's ears as they continue her walk for home, one of his arms never leaving Susannah.

**_Sneak up and hug her waist from behind._**

xXx


	2. A True Love

_**A/N – **_Hi everyone! Wow . . . wow . . . _wow_! I didn't expect it to be so well liked! O.O But I'm very, very glad it was. I've really enjoyed myself writing these. :) And listening to most of you say; 'I wish I had one.' when referring to Jesse has just made me even giddier! I do too, just for the record. ^^;

So, here is the last part to it. I'm sorry if they're not up to par; I'm suffering from bloody repetitive stress on my right wrist. It's hurting just to type, but I was determined to write this. Seems like all that FWIL updating has caught up with me. :( Unfortunately, it's taken me into the wee hours of the morning again. ^^ But I just want to say a tremendous thank you for the wonderful reviews from the first chapter! And _**Jess**_, your reply is up on my profile. :)

So without further a do . . . please enjoy and let me know what you think. :) I'm afraid my romantic side ran rampant a little, hehe. Hugs and love! x

* * *

_**A True Love**_

_**When she's scared . . .**_

Suze doesn't see it coming.

One minute she was standing there, trying to talk sense into the ghost hell-bent on getting revenge on the man that killed him; the next, she's ducking from flying fists and objects, hurtling at her head. She tries to parry him, block his blows, and shout some sense into the man. But it's no use and she starts to weaken. She knows Jesse will be close by. He was on his way before the angry ghost starting using Suze as a punching bag and target practice. But that doesn't stop the fear cooling her blood to icy trickles in her veins, stilling her heartbeat more and more as the seconds pass.

She's not afraid for herself; she's afraid for _Jesse_ and what could happen to him when he arrives. It's always fear for him before her own.

He hears the shouts, the exclamations of pain and echoes of thunder reverberating from the warehouse he agreed to meet Susannah in. It takes less than a second for the noise to penetrate Jesse's mind and he's crossing the tarmac and crashing through the metal door with a growl. His eyes sweep the floor looking for her. At first, he doesn't connect the huddling woman, trembling in front of the sprit swelling with his fury as that of Susannah. The fearless, hit-them-before-they-hit-you, Susannah. But just as quickly as he does, he's swarmed with the rightful emotion of distress and determination. Just at the same moment he sees a flash of pointed silver from somewhere behind the spirit, hovering and ready to strike.

"_Susannah_!" Jesse cried out, racing across the distance before he's even finished the last syllable.

Turning to him with a fresh wave of terror, more distinct than any before it, Suze's eyes widen. "_**NO**_!" Her scream is piercing and wrenched from the depths of her soul.

But it's too late. Jesse already stepped into her path, blocking her with his body of the flying instrument hurtling towards them. The pain doesn't connect with him at first. All he's aware of is Susannah's frightened wide green eyes and her hands catching on to him as the world suddenly tilts and the ground rushes towards him. Then the pain sends the correct message to his brain and the wave of white hot pain is felt. Rolling on to his side, his shoulder singing with pain from the knife imbedded, but not too deep, he looks up at Susannah with a depth of love and triumph. He wasn't too late. Her fear was still there, but at least the reason for it wasn't.

That's good enough for Jesse.

_**Protect her.**_

xXx

_**When she lays her head on your shoulder . . .**_

If happiness at just sitting with Jesse under the shaded branches of a tree, with the dappled sunlight tickling across her bare legs, could be bottled up in those little vials ready for consumption; Suze would be set for eternity. Not life, because it would stretch on further than that. But there was no denying just how . . . _blissful_, she was feeling right then. Central Park was busy like it usually is during the Summer, as many people enjoying the sun while they can. But that didn't bother Suze. For all she cared, it could have been tree-to-bench with screaming toddlers and yapping pooches, she'd still be happy sitting among the chaos.

The same could be said for Jesse.

With his jean-clad legs stretched out far in front of him, his back resting against the rough bark of an old tree, far older than his living and dead years put together, Jesse's hooded gaze soaks in the hustle and atmosphere suspended over the area and lulling him into a soft, light doze. Coupled with Susannah's body leaning against him, her hand entwined with his where it's wrapped around her back and resting lightly in her lap, he thinks he might have to visit New York again, if not just to relive the scene they're creating right then. Comfort, peace and contentment. Three words rarely used together in the same sentence. One or two at a time, but rarely all three.

Listening to Susannah's breathy sigh as she lays her head to his shoulder and fiddles with a blade of grass in her free hand, he turns his head to look down at her. Over-come with his love and tenderness for her; Jesse knows it will never fade. Grow stronger, expand and deepen . . . but _never_ fade.

Through a haze with only Susannah as the clear, bright soul pulsing with vitality and happiness, Jesse lifts his free hand and gently tips her chin up to look at him. Without answering the question in her eyes, his lips press to hers with a fierce gentleness that parts her lips with a gasp and allows him to deepen the touch and the memory. She tastes like chocolate, mingled with strawberry lip balm and it takes a concerted effort to pull away when the time comes. But when it does, he finds staring into her eyes to be just as fulfilling as tasting her lips and possessing them as his only.

Shortly after, Suze's head falls back to resting against his shoulder and her eyes close to the park. Reliving that sweet moment again and again with a smile.

_**Tilt her head up and kiss her.**_

xXx

_**When she steals your favourite hat . . .**_

The night is cold and riddled with a chilled, October wind as Susannah and Jesse stroll through the grave-yard on their way home. The task a spirit acquainted them with was simple and easy enough to do. One that unfortunately, meant having to brave the cold and darkness and only do it at night. But they were successful and the spirit who had been watching over them while they did it, shimmered away, leaving the Earth plane forever. But by then, the cold had already seeped into their bones, one pair of gloved hands and one bare, cocooned deep in their pockets.

Suze had left her beanie hat behind on her frilly dresser in her bedroom, along with her favorite gloves. Once Jesse realized that her hands were shaking and turning red at the tips from the cold, he'd taken his off and handed them to her with a simple demand to put them on. He cut off her protests of his hands shrivelling up, and silenced her even more with a kiss. Not a completely bad way to lose an argument, Suze knew. But it wasn't his gloves she really wanted. It was his hat.

His favorite one to be precise.

Jesse had caught Susannah staring at him numerous times throughout their little excursion out to help the spirit and each time he asked her what she was staring at, she would just smile and shake her head without answering. He couldn't help but smile at the way she had to keep ramming his large gloves back onto her fingers though and because of it, he let his guard down. Before he knew it, Susannah had whipped the thick, dark woollen hat off his head and had slipped it on to hers, pulling it down over her ears.

Laughing and giggling, their little game of chase, followed by trying to surrender Susannah into submission by tickling her free of it, eventually reached the long driveway of Susannah's home; Jesse's hat still firmly ensconced on her head. Smiling, Jesse didn't try and take it from her again. He just simply pulled it down further over her ears, kissing the tip of her cold red nose. He knew she would give it back by the next day and would no doubt sleep with it on her pillow or underneath it like she does with one of his t-shirts when she's not wearing it herself.

Knowing she finds comfort and a restful night's sleep with that, he has no argument against her stealing it for a night. He does the same with her things anyway.

_**Let her keep it and sleep with it for a night.**_

xXx

_**When she teases you . . .**_

It's such a rare thing for Suze to come across Jesse doing something a normal human would be doing, that it sometimes takes her a few seconds to realize that Jesse is in fact, just a regular guy and not a man carved from perfection. Even though when he's doing something that could be classified as tease worthy material, she still see's him as that Spanish God sent to her because she finally deserved one. But all the same, the moments are so rare and far-between, it takes her a few minutes once the moment has passed for her to recall what the last thing was, that made her see him without the halo. And this time is no different.

Jesse knows Susannah is laughing at him where she stands beside him, even if she's not cracking a smile or looking at him with a pitiful look. He can just feel the amusement oozing off her at his predicament. When she suggested a day to the zoo, he didn't realize that would mean being forced forward through the crowd and offered to feed the elephants. He's a grown-man; it's not a hard thing to do. But he can't stop the shudder that runs through him when its trunk tickles over his open palm. Place a handful of sugar-cubes on his palm to feed a horse and he'll do it with love and admiration for the beautiful creature.

But an elephant is not a horse and Susannah was still laughing at him.

"How can you be so scared of feeding an elephant?!" She teased him, her grin now fully fledged on her sunlit face as they stroll away from the elephants, wandering into a different area, but still as open and free. Her laugh is just waiting to bubble free the more she sees his mock dark glower at her. Secretly, he's enjoying being teased by her. "What did you think he'd do? Wrap his trunk around you and carry you away?" She did laugh then, picturing the image. Of all the things to frighten him, she ponders.

Jesse is so enraptured by Susannah's laughter, he fails to notice the little tactile monkey that had leapt off of the keeper and crossed the distance to leap at her. It's not until she stops laughing with a gasp, her whole body rigid at the sudden furry creature sitting on her shoulder like a parrot on the shoulder of a pirate. She looks ready to scream the birds from the trees!

Biting back his own laughter at the horrified look on his love's face, Jesse holds an arm out for the monkey, inviting it to leap onto his arm. "What's the matter, _querida_? Scared of a harmless little monkey trying to make friends?" Jesse's chuckled, stroking a thumb over her cheek to relax her. The monkey had passed over on to Jesse making itself comfortable on his shoulder, staring back at Susannah like it knew she was freaked out by having it on her.

It takes a second, but eventually Suze laughs openly; shaking her head and reaching a hand out to stroke the monkey. Glad he's back to his Spanish God status in her mind.

_**Tease her back and make her laugh.**_

xXx

_**When she doesn't answer for a long time . . .**_

Jesse got Susannah's disturbingly calm call, considering the circumstances, mid morning.

It was by chance that he happened to be on a break from his small part-time job at the Carmel Historical Society museum and he was able to answer his cell-phone. He put his mild disgust with such a contraption to the back of his mind when he saw that it was Susannah and the fact she should have been at school, alerting him to a possible problem. The way she calmly asked him to meet her at the Memorial Hospital sent chills of apprehension down his spine and stood his hair on end. Without really waiting for a nod of approval from his boss, he left his job and made his way to Susannah as quickly as possible. The worst scenario's crawling through his mind.

When Jesse steam-rolled into the waiting room Suze was sitting in, the relief at seeing him was short-lived. It couldn't take away from her anxiety and worry for Father D. She'd just been sitting in his office, talking about school, how she was coping with juggling both that and her mediator duties, when his breath was suddenly torn free from his lungs. Everything happened in such a chaotic rush after that, the images were blurred, distorted and silent. Like watching a silent movie on fast forward. She could barely remember anything from running from his office shouting for an ambulance, calling Jesse to come to the hospital, to him walking in to find her.

Dropping to a crouch, his hands grip hers in a vice, looking up at her with keen interest and concern. "Susannah, what happened?" Jesse questioned her quietly.

Suze's response was automatic and bland. "They think he had a heart-attack. I don't . . . " Leaving her voice to trail off, she locked her watery eyes with Jesse, the heart- breaking seconds of silence passing between them with agonizing slowness. Waiting patiently, Jesse doesn't tear his eyes from Suze, not once. She knows he's waiting to hear more, to know what happened, for her to explain what the doctors did or didn't say. But the words died on her lips the second she said '_don't_'. She see's Jesse realize that with a thin press of his lips and a sympathetic shutter over his eyes. It's almost too much for Suze to see.

Until he breaks the silence.

"_Querida_, Father Dominic will be fine. He's in the best place possible. We're here for him now." Raising his hand, Jesse allows it to slip into her hair at Suze's temple as he strokes her cheek. Leaning in to his touch, she nods her head jerkily. The tears still held at bay until the doctors prove what Jesse said true. The silence this time isn't so strained and taut. With Jesse sitting beside her in an equally uncomfortable chair and waiting.

Deep down, Suze knew Jesse was right. It was just one more thing to add to his list . . .

_**Reassure her that everything is okay.**_

xXx

_**When she looks at you with doubt . . .**_

Being thrown under the microscope and cross-examined isn't something that appeals to Jesse. Nor does it satisfy Susannah.

The interrogation had been going on for far too long and for all of it, Jesse hadn't once lost his patience with her. If she had been accusing him of having an affair or cheating on her - something he would never do, for as long as he breathes life into his soul - he could probably understand the reasons for her asking again and again, and still with doubt in her eyes when he proclaimed his innocence. If it came down to him lying to her for _any_ reason at all, then again, he would still understand.

But with hands held high, open and non-defensive, Jesse just nodded and said yes, no, yes, no, maybe to each question she pitched to him with determination.

"You're sure? You promise you didn't? Swear it." Susannah said again, wavering slightly but still looking at him with suspicion.

Dropping his hands to his sides and sighing a release of breath that for the first time, might incline towards exasperation, Jesse crossed the short distance between them in the living room of his apartment and cupped her face in his hands. Invading her space to reinforce his point. Staring into her eyes without flickering, without blinking and without guilt, also re-enforcing his point he was soon to make. Licking his lips to let them curve into a sincere smile, Jesse leant forward to rest his head against Susannah's.

"I swear I didn't eat the last chocolate and strawberry cupcake. I promise." He said; his amusement plain to hear in his voice.

Finally, after a gruelling hour of debate, sworn promises and side-glances of doubt, Suze's eyes cleared and she smiled fully, believing him. Never realizing it was Father D she needed to be cross-examine and questioning of the lost last cupcake. And they'd never find out either, thanks to Father D's friends upstairs.

_**Back yourself up.**_

xXx

_**When she says that she likes you . . .**_

It was as she was curled up with Jesse on his couch, watching Jaws, _again_, that Suze realized something.

Since she first realized that she was falling irrevocably in love with Jesse, she had never really thought, or taken into consideration what he might have thought about her. That he may never have truly known that when she said to him - if he was alive, he wouldn't want to know her; with his reply that he would - just how much his answer was going to mean to her. She'd been so busy concentrating on trying to hide his mark and do anything but _think_ about him, she almost missed the signs that were flashing neon.

She never stopped to think of how he must really, _really_ see her from his point of view. How her disasters at mediating, her unhappiness in Carmel and her penchant for kicking butt and asking questions later, were really looked at. She always thought he saw her as the reckless teenager, throwing her life into the path of danger unnecessarily. God, he even got mad at her for bring his cute butt back from the shadowland for her! But the whole time, even after he kissed her the first time, never did she stop in her evasion and self-pity to really look at Jesse and see herself.

She knew he knew she liked him. Even after the second kiss by his grave-stone and they were as officially a couple as a living girl and ghost could be. But still, she didn't really know, he _knew_.

Twisting herself to look at him where he was grinning at the television, already knowing what was going to come next, did she _fully_ understand that . . . Jesse has always known. Somehow, without her having to say anything, he has always known more than she's known herself. Paul didn't want her, Jesse did. She never wanted Paul, she _needed_ Jesse! The man that has always seen deeper into Suze than one soul could possibly delve. Always knew what she would do or say before she did. Who trusts her implicitly. Who knew she liked, _loved_ him even, and who never took advantage of that fact. But kept it close to him as a secret waiting for her to realize.

Jesse has always known. Waiting patiently for Suze to realize, she has too.

_**She really does, more than you could understand.**_

xXx

_**When she grabs at your hands . . .**_

Susannah's excitement was rising like the magma of a volcano and spilling over into Jesse without violation.

Seconds away from bouncing up and down on her toes in a very uncharacteristic display of happiness from her, Jesse watched her with a grin, enjoying the warmth of her suddenly frantic, flapping about gesturing was doing. Her room seemed too cramped for her high emotion. Like it was crowding in on them and squashing them closer together. Jesse didn't mind, he was quite enjoying seeing her so flushed and only catching about a third of what she was saying in her rushed speech he's come to associate with her. Where words spilled and mesh together to form a blur. He's always found it endearing that she has that habit if she's exuberant or nervous.

Watching the movement of her lips in an effort to garner a little more information that his hearing has skipped, he failed by becoming entranced with the way her full rosy lips pucker and move, glide and curve as she says about the good news she's heard. Good news that she has actually _yet_ to tell him, because in her excitement, she skipped that step.

Dragging his gaze away from her mouth, Jesse locks his eyes with Susannah's instead. He knows he has no hope of finding any information there, but he's more than happy to watch the emerald shine seem to brighten and prickle with the intensity of her emotions. As she steps closer to him, her hands suddenly reach out and grab at his, shocking him for a second. It's almost long enough for her to pull away. But with lightening quick reflexes, his hands grasp hers and bring them back to him.

She's never once stopped in her speech the whole time.

Making the effort to re-focus his attention, Jesse starts to fiddle with the slender fingers of Susannah's hand. His thumb rubbing across the promise ring he saved up to buy her, twisting around her finger without much resistant. The warm metal tickling the nerves of his finger-tips.

She doesn't pull away, but after a while she slows down with her excitement until Jesse snaps out of the sudden quiet, realizing he heard nothing of what she said and hadn't even recognized that she had stopped speaking! She was smiling at him knowingly instead before her eyes fell to their hands and Jesse's gentle and absent ministrations of her fingers. With the slightest tug of her lower lip between her teeth, Susannah made a tingle of awareness skim across his nerves.

Bringing her hands up to his lips, he brushes a kiss over her ring. His actions and eyes speaking far louder and quicker, than Susannah's excited speech ever could.

_**Hold hers and play with her fingers.**_

xXx

_**When she bumps into you . . .**_

They could hear Suze's family talking from the dining room where they were sitting down to talk after dinner. Suze and Jesse had quite generously offered to clear the table and tidy and clean the kitchen. Using their quick time away to stand at the sink, talking quietly or just happily left to the silence of listening to her family's lulling voices; the dulcet tones of Bradley, the deeper than deep voice of David; a few lazy words from Jake and sounds of Helen and Andy making goo-goo eyes to each other over their dessert. The backyard was dark outside the window, save for the few blue neon lights hidden along the path. It looked perfectly still out there, not even the whisper of a breeze.

It was enough to send Suze's mind back to the night she travelled to the past, some two years ago.

It had been so dark that night, the sheer bright, vastness of the stars had almost knocked her off her feet. The one thing missing from tracing the milky-way with her eyes, had been having Jesse there to see it with her. Sure, they lay on the roof of the porch outside her bedroom window together, many times while he was a ghost and some since he's been alive again. But seeing something that words can't describe or even begin to articulate had shamefully been dampened from his lack of presence there too.

Twisting her lips wryly, Suze wondered if Jesse would mind a quick trip back in time again, just to get to see the darkness of the night stretch on for eternity. Glancing up at him side-ways, she doubted he would approve. But the thought was mischievous enough for her to bump her hip and shoulder in to his side, stalling the question sitting on the tip of her tongue, because she already knew the answer. Not to mention the temptation it could flood Jesse with, at the prospect of being so close to being able to catch a glimpse of his family again. One last time, before all the mystery, scandal and half-truths and half-lies invaded their lives.

Suze couldn't do that to Jesse. She knows the taste of temptation and she knows the addiction it can hold.

When she had bumped her hip and shoulder into Jesse's side, it had made him look down at Susannah with a smile. But it was only fleeting. Because just as suddenly as he saw her mischief, did he sense her hesitation and sudden stiffness to whatever was running through her mind. The moment had been perfect up until then and Jesse was feeling too selfish to break it by voicing what Susannah was embroiled in mentally. So he did the next best thing.

He distracted her.

Bumping his own hip into her, she snapped her startled eyes up to his, her stupor broken. And just to make sure it stayed that way, he lifted a hand covered in bubbles and suds from the washing up liquid, and he smeared it down her face, tapping the end of her nose. It took a second, but Susannah was soon laughing and batting his hand away from attacking her more. Bubbles were floating around the spacious kitchen, but they paid no mind to that. They just took turns fighting off the bubbles and the laughter drawing the attention of her family.

Maybe Suze would ask him that question, or offer that one last glimpse one-day. But not tonight.

_**Bump into her back and make her laugh.**_

xXx

_**When she tells you a secret . . .**_

It had been one of those half-sleep confessions that Susannah told Jesse a secret she had never told another person.

They had just been curled up on top of the covers, both tired and relaxed, that made for a lethal combination when trying to stay awake. Jesse's hand that had been stroking up and down Susannah's back underneath her shirt had made her doze into a half slumber quicker than Jesse. Neither feeling too inclined to move or leave the warmth of the other. It was in-between a lapse in conversation, where Jesse thought she had fallen asleep her breathing had evened out so deeply, that she told her secret, in half a whisper and half a yawn.

Jesse had sprung back to awareness with the swiftness of a cat on a hot tin roof when she did.

If anyone else had said that at one point in their life, they had given up so totally and completely, Jesse would have given that person sympathy and congratulated them on coming through a stronger person. But when he heard the soft words of his love, telling him that there was a point in her life that she had just given up, on herself, on _Fate_, on the reason for dragging herself out of bed in the morning, he knew without a doubt, that Susannah had hit one of the lowest points in her life. It takes a lot to swipe the Earth out from underneath the character of such a willed, stubborn and strong person like Susannah. But time, life, _Fate_, had evidently done just that.

It was before the prospect of moving to Carmel had even been broached. When it was just herself and her Mother, trying to get by as more friends, than Mother and Daughter. Somehow, Jesse already knew that her gift for helping spirits had done more than land her in trouble and cause a rift of bewilderment between Susannah and her Mother. But _never_, had he imagined to such proportions. It takes much courage and even more strength to pull yourself out of a darkness that deep, Jesse knew. He had been victim to it himself once a long time ago. And it saddened and shocked him that he wasn't there for Susannah when she needed him. Even though there was no way he could have been.

When you know a loved one has slept in the darkness and let it touch their soul, it's a secret kept so close to the heart, nothing and no-one can find it.

But the worst was far from over. Because along the same tracks of Susannah's secret, was the long-buried denial, that she was so close to descending back to that limbo again, over two years ago. When she thought he was gone forever, just to be faced with the prospect of not only losing him, but having to say goodbye before she did. Susannah knew there was that risk when she travelled to the shadowland to find him. The buried realization made Jesse pull Susannah out of her light doze with a kiss so raw and desperate; she went limp in his arms. When he pulled away, she blinked at him through confusion and love.

He didn't need to word his promise of keeping her secret safe. Susannah had received it in a wholly more precious way.

_**Keep it safe and untold.**_

xXx

_**When she looks at you in your eyes . . .**_

The phrase stripping her with his eyes couldn't be truer, than the way Jesse was looking at Suze over the table in a restaurant to celebrate his birthday.

The only difference between that phrase and the way Jesse was watching the love of his life and reason for being - literally - was more than stripping away her layers to show her beauty he's only glimpsed in snatches. It was more than letting his libido and imagination run away with him and fuel the burn of his eyes. Because Jesse wasn't stripping her physically, even though the affect was the same. He was stripping her _emotionally_. Tearing away everything Suze tried to throw up in her defence so she didn't feel quite so bear and open. More arousing and tender than any physical caress could do to her.

Jesse was stripping away to her _soul_.

Suze rolled her eyes and sighed exasperated when she read or heard things like that. She knew what a soul was; she dealt with them every day of her life in the guise of ghosts and spirits. Oh yes, Suze knew all about the very essence of a human and all that jazz. But not until she met Jesse, did she start to look at it in a whole new way. Sure, she wanted the true love that comes with finding Mr. Right. She thought it would be what she saw between her Mom and Dad. That might possibly, be even stronger with Andy. She craved it so bad; she was almost blind to the possibilities thrown in her path.

Maybe there was even a reason for that.

But to describe love to the bare essentials that, when she knew Jesse was mad at her for something she did or didn't do with a ghost, she felt sick to her stomach with shame and fear that he would never forgive her. Or would look at her a different way from that day forward. When he smiled at her, it was like an injection of adrenalin. Suddenly she could leap tall buildings and fly around the world in seconds. When he kissed her . . . She didn't know it was supposed to feel so _magickal_! She was positive her feet left the ground the first time they shared their proper, _proper_ kiss. Anything she'd shared with Paul or Tad hadn't even come close to what she shared with Jesse.

She was as vulnerable and delicate as a butterfly, but as strong as Wonderwoman! Clichéd but true.

So sitting in a crowded restaurant and staring down his deep, deep eyes, her knees going weak, she knew everything that person who gushed about souls and true love, didn't have a _clue_ what they were talking about. Because nothing compared to what she was feeling with Jesse. The words haven't been created to describe it, because it _wasn't supposed_ to be described, explained, nit-picked and pulled apart. You're just supposed to _enjoy_ it and appreciate it for what it is.

And Suze did. Even when she felt the flush of heat creep up her neck from her chest and light her face to a faint glow as she ducked her head with a smile, finally the one to break his eyes after she started it. Never again would she question or wonder about the depth of love she feels for Jesse.

She just anticipates the _passion_ that rivals it.

_**Don't look away until she does.**_

xXx

_**When she's missing you . . .**_

Time away from Susannah, whether it's a few hours or a few days, never leaves Jesse with a comfortable feeling. Something that for a reason he suspects, but never really wants to acknowledge, stems from something more than a lover being away from his offer half. Most people miss their loved ones when they don't get to see them for a certain amount of time; the same is said for Susannah and Jesse. But there's always something more to it than that for them. From Jesse's perspective. And he hates to have to put off seeing her if certain things or life have stood in the path for them to meet.

He does what he can to ease the blow for both her and himself. Snatched phone-calls when he can. Dreams that only make the uncomfortable feeling worse. Notes given from one friend to pass along to her and vice versa. Always things that are close, but not close enough for him to reach out to her.

And the first opportunity he gets to extinguish that distance, Jesse does.

"_When am I going to get to see you next?_" Susannah asks down the phone to him as he stands in the shadows of a tree, watching her pace back and forth in tight steps that betray the calm levitation to her voice. "_I know you're busy and I totally understand that. It just feels like it's been so long. I miss you, Jesse._" She strikes his heart with a scalpel by saying; a small tremor to her voice that she quickly tries to mask with a shaky laugh like it's no big deal. But he knows it's a _huge_ deal.

He can _see_ it is.

"Soon," Jesse answered quietly, his eyes narrowing when he sees her shoulders that were stiff from tension seconds before, sag in defeat and distress. The silence that lapses between them for a few seconds is only broken by his watching Susannah seat herself on a bench and swipes the tears that have slipped free from under her eyes. "You'll see me very soon, _querida_." He says again, sighing silently when he notices her put on a fake, shaky smile as though he was standing right there before her. But it doesn't mask her pain in her eyes and Jesse ends the call to save her from having to keep her control while speaking to him.

His suspicions he didn't want to acknowledge before give him no choice but to make them known now. The pain he feels from being apart from her is the same pain he saw Susannah try and mask, even when she was on her own, with no idea he was watching her. He makes one vow to himself as he crosses the distance ready to surprise her and sets it in stone when he pulls her in to a hug so tight; Susannah almost thinks he might break her.

He'll never dismiss the pain that comes with being apart from his love, again.

_**She's hurting inside.**_

xXx

_**When you break her heart . . .**_

Sometimes finding out what lies in the deepest parts of a woman's heart, can never be reached on a conscious level as Jesse found out with Susannah.

Sometimes, you have to wait and witness it in a whole different way that feels like a dagger has speared your heart, before being wrenched free so you can slowly bleed to death in your own misery, pity and despair. Leaving you trapped in the knowing, that there is nothing you can do to take away their pain or salve the festering wound. You just have to watch it grow and pray that over time, that wound might just heal with the right words, touch and promises.

But one thing is clear, when you hear the whispered words of a loved one's heart-break in their sleep; that heart-break that has _no_ conscious barriers to withhold the grief and let it trickle through piece by piece. It's raw, it hurts and it's all at once. No-one can escape the severity of the sub-conscious mind when it hits the hardest.

It started out as a whimper. Something that woke him instantly, like a parent listening out for their child during the night. Lazily opening his eyes he looked over to Susannah, barely consciously aware on her hair tickling his nose. Just that she was curling into a tighter foetal position, like she was in pain. Which the whimpers would have accounted for. Sitting up on an elbow, he looked down into her face highlighted by the crescent moon seeping through the thin curtains. He was just about to reach over and brush her hair from her face when she spoke; her voice thick with sleep and undiluted pain.

"_Jesse_ . . . _why_? Why did you _leave_ me?" She asked on a broken sob, her eyes screwing shut even more.

At first he was confused, _shocked_ to be more precise. And then he realized she was dreaming, having a nightmare that was making her tremble and moan. "_Querida_, I haven't left you. I'm right here. I've always been right here. It's okay." He automatically corrected her, trying to rouse her or at least, ease her slumber to a more restful sleep. His hand finished its course, brushing her sticky with sweat hair away from her face, her expression relaxing the slightest bit with his touch.

"You're here _now_ . . . But you left me _once_ . . . You _left_ me . . . " She trailed off on a sigh, slipping back into a deep sleep again.

Shocked to the bone with the implications of her words, Jesse knew it wasn't just a simple nightmare Susannah was suffering from. It was a _memory_. Of a scene what seemed like a long time ago, when Maria had Jack exorcise him and make Susannah _believe_ he had left . . . Just like that. Like he ever could. She hadn't known then, just how much he loved her. She had no idea, that that was the only force that could wrench him away from her. But it was enough to break her heart. Her long-buried secret she had murmured only hours before reacting to her sub-conscious and bringing that old heart-break back.

The most terrifying thing of all was that Jesse had no way of removing that. He is as powerless to the heart-ache, as Susannah is to reliving it.

_**The pain never really goes away.**_

xXx

_**When she says it's over . . .**_

When Suze realized that she needed a break from Jesse, as a test for herself as well as him, she never imagined he would take it the way he did. In fact, it made her re-think everything that had ever happened between them, felt between them, said and seen. She was sorry when she sat on the other side of the table from him, breaking the news that, she just couldn't think straight; didn't feel free enough with him, that she needed to go her separate way for a while. She needed . . . space from everything that had happened. Deep down her heart was tearing to shreds at the seams for doing it. But her head was right. She needed to follow that and see where it took her.

But his response, cut deeper than any scream of her heart could.

"I agree, Susannah." He had simply said.

His eyes weren't even guarded so she couldn't read his emotions. All she saw was sympathy and pity. Towards _her_. It took an amazing will-power and the sheer imagination to pretend she was sitting in front of Tad and couldn't care less he had broken their almost fling, for her to part ways with Jesse with a tough smile and a calm walk out of the diner. Instead of running and screaming. The gasp didn't tear free from her throat until she was part way home and it hit her what he said. No sadness, no rejection, no anger. Just, _pity_ and _sympathy_ for the girl who had brought his soul back - however unintentionally.

She was being encased by a barrier of ice between her and the outside world for the following walk home. The pain was so unbearable, even though she was the one that made the first step, she was numb to it. She refused to admit that she wanted him to disagree, fight for her. Because he did neither. Susannah Simon was once again . . . brushed aside as _nothing_.

If Susannah had been paying attention though, she would have noticed that Jesse wasn't taking it the way she thought he was. His hands were clenched into such tight fists under the table; his knuckles had long since cracked from the pressure and were turning white from the lack of blood circulating there. His heart-beat that for a hundred and fifty years he never had, was hammering in his chest so loud he was surprised she couldn't hear it as she briskly walked past him without a backwards glance to him. He knows, because he watched. The second the door chimed stopped that she had slipped through the door, was the second he released his held breath.

Susannah was scared, that much was obvious to him. But was it obvious to her?

When things get tough for Susannah, or too good for too long, she starts to question it. She starts to get scared that the other shoe will drop and her house of cards will all come tumbling down. Cliché after cliché was running through her mind, and Jesse could pinpoint each other without much effort. She was shedding the goodness before the real drama would hit. But she was doing it for no reason. To Susannah, it may be a test of his love for her. His faith in their relationship. But in truth, it wasn't. It was a test of _Fate_.

The same Fate that has delivered her to the gates of hell and back again too many times. The prospect of Jesse being the Angel to save her, as a gift from the same hand that burned her, apparently just wasn't a possibility to his love.

But it _was_ to Jesse. Susannah may have suffered, but so has he. For a _hundred and fifty years_ he suffered. Losing his family, his _life_. Waiting for Susannah, just to go through the dangers of losing her to his own spectral kind, another man, his own fears even. Yes he's been through the wringer as painfully as Susannah, but it's not a competition. And if there is one thing Jesse has learnt in all his years as a spirit, it's that good things _do_ come to good people. And Susannah and Jesse are the _epitome_ of that.

So he let her go.

Checking his watch, he counted how many hours he should leave it before he goes to her. That time passed with a slowness that would have made the fabled tortoise seem like a marathon runner. And it didn't get any easier as he silently made his way to her house that night. Staring up at her dark window, no light spilling through it at all, he knew she wasn't sleeping. But he could see the window he always closed for her before the cold seeped in, even when he was living at the rectory, was still open and beckoning him. As agilely as a panther, he scoured the porch and thanked the pine-needles cushioning the roof to kill any noise he made.

And just like that, he slipped through her window.

As soundless as a ghost.

She was lying on her side in bed, her back to him with the comforter drawn up and over her shoulders. Wetting his lips, he sat on the window seat he has and always will call his own and softly said her nickname. "_Querida_." It was as soft as a feather and packed the punch of a siren. The affect instantaneous.

Rolling over in bed, Susannah pinned him with a shocked, dry-eyed stare. Quietly, as if she was being controlled by puppet strings, Susannah climbed out of bed and padded over to him, one of his t-shirts on and another in her hand, wrung to creases. Without taking her eyes away from him, she sat on the cushion beside him, her hand reaching out to touch him, but receding before she made contact. But Jesse reached out and grasped her fingers anyway, pulling them back to him while he turned to give her his full attention.

"_Jesse_ . . . What are you doing here?" She said it like she didn't quite believe he really was.

With one hand holding both of hers, Jesse leaned in to cup her cheek tenderly, making her part her lips in surprise and hope. "Susannah, I _know_ you're scared that somehow, this will go wrong, that _something_ will happen to me, or you, or _us_. But you have to know," Jesse quietly murmured, slowly leaning in, his lips whispering across hers as he spoke. "I made a promise to you, a long, _long_ time ago. And nothing and _no-one_ will make me break that. _Mi corazón para siempre_, _querida_."

The kiss was bittersweet in its simplicity and passionate in its clutches. Instead of pulling away from her completely, Jesse pulled her into a tight, all-encompassing embrace that choked her heart with joy and love, and stole the breath from her lungs. Ducking his head into the crook of her neck, he told her he loved her; _again_ and _again_ until he felt the wetness of her tears soaking his shirt. Pulling away after placing a kiss to her neck, he got his answer in the look in her eyes.

Jesse will always be a true boyfriend to Susannah. But more than that, he will always be a true love.

_Her_, true love to be exact

_**She still wants you to be hers.**_

xXx


End file.
